


Silverfoot

by amyfortuna (elwinfortuna)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Feels, Ficlet, Gen, Prosthetic Foot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwinfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: How Idril Celebrindal was given the nameSilverfoot.
Relationships: Idril Celebrindal & Fingolfin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	Silverfoot

**Author's Note:**

> According to my notes, I wrote the first draft of this ficlet for B2MEM 2017 and somehow it never got polished and posted. Here it is now!

Shortly following the transfer of kingship from Maedhros to Fingolfin, Curufin created Idril's mechanical foot prosthetic. Maedhros insisted on it being done before Curufin was allowed to start work on a prosthetic hand for him. It was his way of apologising for the loss of Elenwë, and for the pain Idril had suffered on the Ice, and the gift of it made something soften in Fingolfin's face, worn and weary already. 

Idril was carried in a low swinging seat borne by her father and uncle to the Great Hall on the shores of Lake Mithrim, that day. Her father placed her in Fingolfin's own royal chair, which had been hand-carved by Turgon and Finrod and completed only two days before. 

She sat smiling, as was ever her way, and Fingolfin himself, instructed carefully by Curufin, bent to place the device against the stump of her leg, foot frozen off just at the ankle. 

It was a thing of beauty, silver-bright, all parts moving easily together. It looked only somewhat like an actual foot, but worked all the better for that. The fastenings were simple and sturdy, and the whole piece was hardly distinguishable from a high boot, carefully cushioned on the inside, save for the fact that the foot itself caught the eye. Idril's device, in silver relief, was carved into the top of the prosthetic; vines of twisted wire curled up the ankle, joining seamlessly with their mates on the leather fastenings, and a bright green gem was set just where it would catch the light. 

Fingolfin knelt before her as the family gathered around. Fingon and Aredhel watched warily, their eyes half on Idril and half on Curufin. Turgon's eyes were all for his daughter and her comfort. Finrod laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, wordlessly lending him strength.

Maedhros stood off to one side with Maglor, pretending not to watch although his eyes were nowhere else. Curufin was next to Fingolfin, giving careful instructions, with Celegorm sitting nearby on the ground beside Huan. Aegnor and Angrod stood chatting with the twins as they looked on. 

It was the closest thing to a true (and non-hostile) family reunion that the House of Finwë would have in Beleriand. 

Once it was in place, Fingolfin straightened up and held out a hand to his granddaughter. "There! Try to stand up," he said, and she gave him a smile and rose to her feet, gracefully, without hesitation. Smiles and applause broke out from those watching, and Turgon rushed forward to give her a hug. She swayed a little but smiled brightly as he held her. 

"Celebrindal I name you in the Sindarin tongue," Fingolfin said, his arms going around both his son and his granddaughter. "My Itarillë, my Silverfoot."


End file.
